I do not know whether I make my self understood in the Representation of an Hen-peckt Life, but I shall take leave to give you an Account of my self, and my own Spouse.  You are to know that I am reckoned no Fool, have on several Occasions been tried whether I will take ill Usage, and yet the Event has been to my Advantage; and yet there is not such a Slave in Turkey as I am to my Dear.  She has a good Share of Wit, and is what you call a very pretty agreeable Woman.  I perfectly doat on her, and my Affection to her gives me all the Anxieties imaginable but that of Jealousy.  My being thus confident of her, I take, as much as I can judge of my Heart, to be the Reason, that whatever she does, tho’ it be never so much against my Inclination, there is still left something in her Manner that is amiable.  She will sometimes look at me with an assumed Grandeur, and pretend to resent that I have not had Respect enough for her Opinion in such an Instance in Company.  I cannot but smile at the pretty Anger she is in, and then she pretends she is used like a Child.  In a Word, our great Debate is, which has the Superiority in point of Understanding.  She is eternally forming an Argument of Debate; to which I very indolently answer, Thou art mighty pretty.  To this she answers, All the World but you think I have as much Sense as your self.  I repeat to her, Indeed you are pretty.  Upon this there is no Patience; she will throw down any thing about her, stamp and pull off her Head-Cloaths.  Fie, my Dear, say I; how can a Woman of your Sense fall into such an intemperate Rage?  This is an Argument which never fails.  Indeed, my Dear, says she, you make me mad sometimes, so you do, with the silly Way you have of treating me like a pretty Idiot.  Well, what have I got by putting her into good Humour?  Nothing, but that I must convince her of my good Opinion by my Practice; and then I am to give her Possession of my little Ready Money, and, for a Day and half following, dislike all she dislikes, and extol every thing she approves.  I am so exquisitely fond of this Darling, that I seldom see any of my Friends, am uneasy in all Companies till I see her again; and when I come home she is in the Dumps, because she says she is sure I came so soon only because I think her handsome.  I dare not upon this Occasion laugh; but tho’ I am one of the warmest Churchmen in the Kingdom, I am forced to rail at the Times, because she is a violent Whig.  Upon this we talk Politicks so long, that she is convinc’d I kiss her for her Wisdom.  It is a common Practice with me to ask her some Question concerning the Constitution, which she answers me in general out of Harington’s Oceana [1]:  Then I commend her strange Memory, and her Arm is immediately lock’d in mine.  While I keep her in this Temper she plays before me, sometimes dancing in the Midst of the Room, sometimes striking an Air at her Spinnet, varying her Posture and her Charms in such a Manner that I am in continual Pleasure: